Generation Next: A Superhero Adventure (The Pantheon Saga Book 3) Read online

  J-Tom closed her eyes briefly, then spoke. “Brie’s party invite was a setup.”

  Hugo narrowed his eyes, more confused. “A setup for what?”

  “Natalie and Spencer getting Jodie drunk. Then Lia taking pictures to look like Jodie hooked up with random guys,” J-Tom blurted out. “Posting them on IG and Snapchat.”

  Hugo heard but couldn’t believe. “What?”

  Jodie seemed more hurt than mad. “But J-Tom texted me to avoid the party after Spencer warned her.”

  Hugo clutched his skull, unable to draw breath. Thank God for Spencer. He knew Brie could be cruel, but this was next-level dark-sided. “Why?”

  “Because…” J-Tom exhaled shakily. “Brie’s the Devil.”

  Jordana’s mom called her from downstairs in Spanish.

  She grimaced. “Be right back.” She scurried from the bedroom, leaving Hugo with J-Tom.

  He sat beside her. They didn’t know each other well outside the Brie and Jodie connection. But awkward conversation beat awkward silence. “You okay?” Hugo inquired.

  J-Tom watched him with such probing intensity, Hugo shifted uneasily in his seat.

  She turned away, shaking her head. “I don’t recognize Brie anymore. She’s become such a bully. I confronted her after hearing what she almost did to Jodie. Brie loses her shit, calls me disloyal and inauthentic—” J-Tom caught herself. “I cursed her out and left the basketball party.”

  Hugo wrinkled his nose, stuck on J-Tom’s words. “Why did Brie call you inauthentic?”

  J-Tom clammed up and stood. “It’s nothing.”

  “You dating Spencer isn’t nothing,” Hugo countered.

  J-Tom’s head turned neck-breakingly fast, eyes bulging like she’d swallowed a lemon.

  Hugo had to laugh. “At Fall Fling, you and Spencer didn't have dates, danced mostly with each other. You looked like a couple.” Half-true. At Fall Fling, Hugo had been sprinting down dark hallways to rescue Presley. He also had caught Spencer and J-Tom devouring each other, oblivious to everything.

  He raised a hand to calm J-Tom’s clear horror. “I’ve told no one.”

  She eventually relaxed. “Surprised you noticed anything the way you and that punk rock girl were dancing.” Both teens laughed.

  Jen sat beside him. “I like boys. But Spence was so upset the day Titan died. The next day I’m consoling her and…shit just happened. And keeps happening…” J-Tom looked and sounded woozy.

  Hugo felt for her. “Brie knew?”

  “From day one.” J-Tom gave a ragged sigh. “Thought I could trust her. But after last night, I’m done.”

  Hugo still couldn’t understand Brie’s scheme to falsely slut-shame her best friend. Why?

  Downstairs, Jordana and her mom bickered in Spanish. So, Hugo continued engaging J-Tom. “You like Spencer Michelman? On purpose?” Hypocrite…

  J-Tom giggled. “Spence is...challenging. But it’s out of self-preservation. Like why she sleeps with her boytoy randoms. Once she lets you in,” Jenn gushed, “it’s amazing.”

  Hugo gulped, already knowing this but held his tongue.

  J-Tom rubbed the back of her neck. “But when I want more than lowkey hookups, she shuts down. Then comes back hot and heavy, sucking me back in…” She exhaled. “I don’t know anything anymore.”

  Sounds like Spencer… “Listen, Jennifer.” Hugo leaned close, holding J-Tom’s gaze. “Tomorrow’s not promised.” Hugo recalled failing to save his classmates, Violet and Paul. His chest throbbed with shame. “Choose whoever chooses you. Girl or guy.” That lesson had taken years to sink into Hugo.

  “Can I ask you something?” Jen murmured.

  “Sure.”

  “Brie tried to hurt Jodie and you.” Her stare probed deep again. “Why’s she so obsessed with you?”

  Hugo went cold all over. I hurt Brie. He noticed how close they’d moved to each other, both drawn by this new potential friendship.

  Hearing Jodie plodding upstairs, Hugo withdrew. J-Tom blinked, snapping out of her glassy-eyed trance as the door reopened.

  “Sorry. Mom needed computer help,” Jodie apologized, entering. “Gen-Xers are so tech ignorant.”

  Hugo glanced at his cellphone clock and the window. The sun had almost disappeared. “I gotta go. Dance competition to support.”

  “Movie night at home,” J-Tom added, turning to Hugo. “Thanks for…you know.”

  He offered a hand. J-Tom bearhugged him. “I’m a hugger. Deal with it.”

  Hugo laughed and returned her embrace.

  When J-Tom exchanged farewells with Jodie, their unspoken eye discussion promised a later chat. Hugo couldn’t stomach the idea that Brie tried hurting these two. He was disgusted…and over her.

  “I know what you did,” Jordana declared after J-Tom left. They stood outside her house.

  Hugo turned to her in slight dread. “That’s a loaded sentence.”

  “Having Brent take me to the basketball party.” Jodie moved into his personal space, eye-fucking the daylights out of him. “I told Brent this morning that I liked someone else.”

  “Oh…” Well, this complicates things… Hugo ached to stay with Jodie, hold and kiss her. But he’d promised his dance crew he’d attend their competition. Unless… “Come with me to the dance competition.”

  Jordana’s reaction was incredulous. “I’m not dressed up.”

  Hugo shrugged. “I’ll wait. My dad always said if life gives you problems, dance it out.”

  Jordana laughed. “Gimme twenty minutes.”

  Forty-five minutes later, they left in Jordana’s car. The wait was worth it: skintight little black dress, teased up-down hairdo, gold hoop earrings. A twelve on the Rihanna scale.

  “En fuego,” Hugo murmured. Jodie gave him a glowing look.

  Is this a date? Whatever, Hugo just wanted to enjoy her.

  The competition was at SLO 805 in San Miguel’s warehouse district. The entry line wrapped around the block. “The competition will be over by the time we enter,” Jordana complained.

  “Relax,” Hugo assured. As expected, he was on the list. Hugo gave Jordana a told ya smirk. She rolled her eyes and smiled as he led her by the hand past the long, salty line.

  The Phenoms, wearing jean jackets and pants combo, weren’t in great spirits backstage. Everyone lit up when Hugo arrived.

  “Thank God!” Wale exclaimed, rushing up.

  Hugo glanced at Jodie, then his friends. “Something wrong?”

  Grace, her hair in crazy braid twists, pointed to Groban lying down wincing as JT stretched him.

  “Groban pulled his hamstring,” Karin explained.

  “Badly,” Marin added.

  “Please sub in!” both Stanleys begged simultaneously, startling Jodie.

  Hugo definitely wanted to perform, but with no preparation? “I don’t know the routines.”

  Grace scoffed at the challenge. “I can show you in fifteen minutes. They're easy.”

  But that would leave Jordana alone.

  Wale, ever intense, grabbed Hugo’s shoulders in desperation. “We need you.”

  “I’ll be fine,” Jordana murmured. “And I can watch you dance again.” She sounded excited.

  With rock-solid confidence, Hugo turned to his friends. “Let’s do it.” That received unanimous cheers.

  “Saving the day again, Bogota.” Jodie slapped his butt playfully.

  Grace was right. The routine was easy, even the twisty sequences. But Hugo knew he could perform them after less than five minutes. By the time the Fab Phenoms were up, inside SLO 805 was packed to the rafters. Jodie stood in the front of the crowd.

  The competition pitted eight crews against each other in three elimination rounds. Judges and crowd reactions decided the winners. Fab Phenoms fought the Lompoc Lyons in Round One. At first Hugo got a bit nervous. Within minutes of falling in sync with the Phenoms, enslaved to the thudding trip-hop beat, the crowd's roar, Hugo was at home. He especially nailed any freestyling as the grou
ps responded to each other’s improvised dance sets.

  The Fab Phenoms beat the Lompoc Lyons overwhelmingly. Same with the next crew, the Hot Boys. Hugo was exhilarated. Jodie screamed approval from the crowd. Wale, Grace, and the others were bouncing off the walls to make the final round versus some LA crew called Freeway Flow.

  Their dance-off went long. And despite the god-awful name, Freeway Flow narrowly beat the Phenoms. Grace and the Stanleys were disappointed. Hugo was just happy to perform.

  Surprisingly, Wale was okay with second place. “We showed everyone what the Phenoms can do,” he rallied the group. “There will be more competitions to win!”

  The group raucously agreed.

  Grace’s mood improved in short order. She hugged everyone in the group, giving Hugo the longest and fiercest embrace. Thank you, she mouthed.

  Hugo winked, his heart overflowing.

  Grace then addressed anyone in earshot. “We got SLO 805 another few hours. Dance party?” That drew thunderous approval.

  “What the…is she serious?” Jodie exclaimed after Hugo found her in the crowd. “I’ve been trying to get into her dance parties for a minute.”

  Hugo reached out, fingers grazing against her cheek. She melted. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  Jordana gave him a bedroomy smile. “Me too.” She stood on her tiptoes.

  Hugo met her halfway with a passionate kiss. For the next hour, Hugo grooved with Jordana while friends and other partiers danced around them. Jesus, Jodie could move and seduce. Those hips, the want in her eyes. If they weren’t in a crowd right now…

  Later, as Jordana grinded her backside against his frontside, Hugo somehow managed to speak with one of Freeway Flow’s dancers. Jackson Roggio was eighteen, with short black hair and a wiry build. His charisma was magnetic as he discussed taking their talents beyond dance competitions.

  “Worth a shot,” Jackson shouted over the music. “You and that Grace girl are super talented.”

  “He’s right, Bogota,” Jordana agreed, grinding away on him.

  Hugo had never considered a dance career. And with his superhero duties, that might not work. But with tonight flowing with energy and love, Hugo didn’t shut Jackson down. “I’ll consider it, when more blood is flowing to my brain.” Both boys guffawed.

  Outside was dark and starry when Jordana drove him home. They stayed in her car awhile, hormones taking over, kissing and groping, finishing two music albums.

  “Take me inside,” Jodie whispered, nuzzling his neck. “Do your worst.”

  Yes! It dumbfounded Hugo how much he craved her right now.

  Angry buzzing interrupted his answer. The work cellphone in his pocket. “Errgh.” He reluctantly pulled away and produced the device. The caller ID jolted alarm through him.

  Dammit. “I got an errand for my mom. Rain check?”

  Displeasure fluttered briefly across Jordana’s face, something Hugo would have to get used to as a superhero. She recovered quickly, her smile full with mischief. “I’ll allow it.”

  Hugo laughed. After another kiss, he hopped out of the car. “I’ll cash that check soon.”

  Jordana’s gaze scorched down between his legs. “You better.”

  Once she’d driven away, Hugo’s smile vanished. Time to go to work. He entered his empty house, all business when making a call. “Hey, Geist.”

  Chapter 44

  Greyson’s screams echoed off walls, Tigre’s claw slowly puncturing his belly. Metallico held him fast, preventing any escape from the agony. Frostknife and Radiant watched in grim content. Carga and Bosca couldn’t watch, ashamed and cowardly.

  I’m going to die, Greyson realized, consumed by mind-blowing anguish.

  An eruption blasted chunks of wall and dust throughout the chamber, startling everyone. Tigre and his lackeys whirled around for an attack. Greyson sagged in Metallico’s grip as Tigre removed his claws. But the stabbing pain and broken ribs intensified.

  A lone figure emerged from the dirty exhausts like a bronzed god of war, his body and armor covered in blood not his own.

  Greyson tensed while everyone else relaxed.

  “Solomon?” Tigre wasn’t pleased. “You’re supposed to deal with House Bowen’s army outside the city.”

  Solomon Shen studied the chamber, stern-faced. His eyes lingered on Greyson. “Already handled.” He noticed the golden sphere holding his sister. All semblance of poise broke.

  “Carolina…” Solomon sprinted forward. This mountain of a man pressed his face up against the sphere. “Caro. Its Sol! Wake up, carino!”

  Solomon slammed a fist on the sphere, again and again, each strike creating more cracks until it finally burst. Caroline slid out, covered in golden goo. Solomon crouched over his sister as she coughed back to life. Greyson sighed in wounded relief.

  “We just found her.” Frostknife knelt beside Solomon, her words wrapped in a cloak of concern. “House Bowen weaponized her to destroy Summerhill.” She gesticulated at the Bowen family’s corpses strewn across the room. “They almost did the same to AmeriForce’s cities.”

  Tigre, also faking concern, pointed to Greyson. “Greyson tried killing her.” He gave Bosca a pointed look.

  The bark-skinned super winced and spoke. “We thwarted him in time.”

  These so-called heroes’ corruption took Greyson’s breath away.

  Solomon lay his sister down and stood. His expression was unreadable. “Is that true?”

  Greyson shook his head as best as possible in a chokehold. “No!” Pain from his injuries and adrenaline were the only things keeping him conscious.

  Tigre’s face twisted. “Don't believe him, Solomon,” he growled. “The Statesider almost killed you in Dourado’s gladiator pits. Now he targets your only family.” Again, no native Amaranthines protested this.

  Solomon nodded in acceptance. “I’ll finish him, yea.”

  Tigre motioned to Metallico to release Greyson. “Do it.”

  Suddenly, Greyson could breathe. He sank to all fours, midsection ablaze. Swaying and struggling to raise his head, Greyson saw two Solomons.

  “Okay,” Solomon grunted.

  Greyson forced himself not to flinch as the Amaranthine cocked a fist and swung…

  …striking Metallico with a solid clang. The metal-skinned super went flying.

  Solomon then hurtled at Bosca before he could react, punching a hole through his bark-covered chest. A backhand spun Carga three times. She fell, out cold.

  Tigre, Frostknife, and Radiant looked on in horror while Greyson’s gratitude soared.

  “No!” Tigre gripped his fluffy hair.

  “Yea, Sol’s with me.” Greyson struggled back up. Fire scorched his spine, dropping him to a knee. Opening a private comm channel between himself, Solomon, and Connie had paid off. Finding Carolina had been unexpected. But AmeriForce wanting her dead only solidified Solomon’s allegiance.

  Solomon hoisted Frostknife up by the throat. “I heard everything you told Greyson. Even using Fastball to kill him. You sick—AH!” He tossed Frostknife away as she partially froze his forearm. Solomon shook his arm to regain feeling before Radiant rocketed forward, tackling him up toward the ceiling.

  Frostknife popped up. “Kill them and the girl!” she raged, moving furiously toward Carolina.

  Tigre lunged for Greyson, who panicked. He was too injured for prolonged combat. And Metallico had recovered, stomping forward like an iron bull.

  Only one way to protect himself and Carolina. Scrambling across the chamber, he threw himself over her limp body and tapped into his power. The effort stabbed worse than Tigre’s claws. Somehow, he fought through dizzying pain, tapping deeper. If not, he and Carolina were dead. At first, nothing happened. Tigre and Metallico were almost on top of him. Greyson kept digging until a pale glow reflected around him.

  Tigre stopped, but not Metallico. “Why are you glowing?” he demanded, advancing.

  “I’m…concentrating.” Greyson looked to the ceilings. “Solom
on…!”

  The man known as Skylord punted Radiant away, the loud crack signaling a severed spine. He swooped down, snatching Carolina up and soared back to the ceiling at breakneck speed.

  Greyson smiled knowing they were safe. His intensifying glow revealed fear on Tigre and Frostknife’s faces. They bolted to safety. Metallico still didn’t understand. Not until Greyson discharged a shockwave of power in all directions, scorching the room in white-hot radiance.

  Moments later, the light faded before blackened walls, charbroiled machinery spurting sparks. Thick and dirty smoke blanketed the entire chamber, fouling the air. Greyson wrinkled his nose.

  The sphere once holding Carolina littered the floor in shards amid the ashes of House Bowen’s corpses. Greyson almost succumbed to the lull of sleep, clutching his screaming midsection. Radiant, or what remained of his scorched carcass, lay in a folded-up heap in front of Greyson. Partially melted silver fragments scattered behind him. It took him a few horrified seconds to recognize Metallico’s remains.

  By Frostknife and Tigre’s motionless bodies, they hadn’t reached the exit fast enough. However, Carga’s body was missing.

  Greyson pushed upright again, groaning from the effort. Blood dribbled from the stinging puncture in his belly. Worry surmounted his agony. “Solomon? Carolina?” he called out, cradling his wounds.

  “We're fine.” A silhouette floated down. When Solomon stepped through curtains of smoke carrying his sister, Greyson was overjoyed.

  Carolina began to stir. “Sol?” she murmured.

  Solomon knelt down to get his sister back on her feet. “Hey, Caro!”

  Carolina studied her brother, unsure if he was real. “You’re alive.” She threw her arms around him.

  Solomon gladly returned her affection. “I kept fighting until I found you.” His eyes sparkled with tears. “Now we’re free, Caro. Amaranthine supers are free.”

  Greyson’s vision grew watery. Not from pain. He thought of his sister, Sara, if she could see him now. Greyson smothered that grief, watching the Shen reunion.

  Carolina pulled away, noticing Greyson for the first time. “Who’s that?”

  Solomon followed her gaze, smiling. “My friend, Greyson, who saved your life—”